


turn around

by captain_emmajones



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon verse, F/M, and expands until the end of s5, but there's a happy ending ofc, starts with killian's reaction to the 3x11 parting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_emmajones/pseuds/captain_emmajones
Summary: inspired by a text post found on tumblr by @bauliya: ‘i think villains in general provide better, more epic romances because they’re allowed to go to extremes. they’re allowed to put their love over the greater good. they’re allowed to be selfish. the best a hero can offer you is number two, because their duty comes first. villains, though. villains will burn down the world for a last kiss goodbye.’(How is he supposed to forget the deep green of her eyes, as she whispers goodbye to him on a town line, and there are tears in her eyes and a kind of affection – infatuation – in the corners of her mouth, and she is saying goodbye.)
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	turn around

**Author's Note:**

> a cs angsty one shot no one asked for <3 i hope those of you who still ship cs will like this lmao :') 
> 
> \- (Orpheus) chooses the memory of her. That’s why he turns. He doesn’t make the lover’s choice, but the poet’s.
> 
> \- (reading) ‘She spoke a last farewell that scarcely reached his ears and fell back into the abyss.’ (a pause) Perhaps she was the one who said: ‘turn around’.
> 
> Portrait of a Lady on Fire, 2019.

Rhum creates a burning path down his throat. He looks up, blinks back raging tears.

There is a knot in his chest and a weight over his heart. He is furious.

He would have chosen her over the whole wide world. He would have chosen her even if it meant burning the world down. He would have chosen _her_.

He clenches his jaw, gazes at the nearly empty drink in his hand. _You barely know her. Bloody hell._

_I’ve known her my entire life._

Another mouthful. A naïve attempt to stifle his pain. His fingers become tighter around the glass. He is bloody angry.

(How is he supposed to forget the deep green of her eyes, as she whispers goodbye to him on a town line, and there are tears in her eyes and a kind of affection – _infatuation_ – in the corners of her mouth, and she is saying goodbye.)

(Perhaps it is what makes her a hero, and him a villain. The fact that she would chose the greater good over her own happiness any day.

He is bloody angry.

He would have chosen her _over_ and _over_ again, until the ends of time.)

.

It is a quiet night in the Dark One’s house.

She holds Excalibur in her hands. The cold metal is grounding. Her fingers are a soft caress over the concealed name of her love.

(He doesn’t love her anymore.)

A little shake of her shoulders, a little chuckle even, to chase down the tears birthing in the corners of her eyes.

He didn’t mean it. _He didn’t mean it_. How could he have? She’s never known this kind of love.

She swallows down. Crickets are singing outside. A part of her is dying, is already dead, and she cannot do anything but fulfill her plan.

_It was the_ only _way to save him._

She would burn the entire world down for him. Why would she feel guilty about it?

(She _burnt_ her entire world down for him. Her family hates her. Her son doesn’t trust her. He doesn’t love her anymore.

Still, she would set herself on fire for him.)

.

Eventually, she does.

Nothing hurts quite as much as saying goodbye to him again, because he is a hero now and he won’t chose himself over her entire family.

(She hates him for it. For being the noble one and pushing her away, for letting her hand go between the bars of this fucking elevator.)

Her knees give up on her on her way up. She breaks down in a puddle of blood. She is wounded beyond repair.

She would have stayed in hell with him if it meant being able to hold his hand a little longer.

(He doesn’t let her.)

(She hates him for it.)

.

She is shaking with wrath as her father pulls on her hand.

“Let’s go, Emma! Before the portal closes!”

(It’s easier to think she is angry when it feels like her soul is being torn away from her body, and she will never be able to retrieve it.)

She cannot help but look back at him, one last time, and truly she is unable to see because of the storming sea in her eyes.

But she looks back. Of course he isn’t there. He’s been dead all along.

_Let go, Emma_.

His voice echoes in her mind. She blinks, licks her lips, gathers all of her strength to turn around. To cross this goddamn portal. To leave him behind, at least for now.

She still has a duty to fulfill. She is the savior. They _need_ her.

She will forever be haunted by the ghost of their love.

(What’s the use of being the savior if she cannot save the love of her life?)

(What’s the use of being true love, the most powerful magic of all, if it cannot save him?)

.

There is not a sound in the former Dark One’s home. There sure reigns a quiet darkness, but it is very tender around the tangled bodies on the bed.

He is sleeping, but there her eyes are still wide open.

She delicately traces the lines of his face, love beating in her heart, a very soft wave of calm and comfort.

(She pities them now. Those whose love isn’t strong enough to convince a god to bring you back from the deads.

She pities them, those who do not love Killian Jones and his incredible, loving heart.)

A tear rolls her down her cheek as a smile tingles her lips. She blinks, overwhelmed by happiness.

Sighs, lectures herself a little, _come on Emma you’ve cried enough already_ , but she is _so_ happy she cannot hold it in.

She laces her arm around his neck, buries her face against his warm skin, breathes him in.

(A very small and modest sob escapes her throat when he holds her tighter, murmurs _Swan_ against her temple, and she falls asleep, safe in the warmth of his arms.)


End file.
